Adverse Effects
by Miss Informed
Summary: The WRO’s latest mission is to bust up a street gang in Junon. No problem, right? With a little digging and what one ninja princess will firmly call bad luck, however, Yuffie finds herself in what a professional might call a "situation."
1. Junon

Saying you're "bone tired" seems stupid to me. It's like saying**,** "Hey guys, I'm fingernail happy right now."

It just doesn't make sense.

That being said, I'm bone tired right about now.

Don't give me that look. You try being dragged out of bed, kicking and screaming, at two forty-five A.M. because some lame WRO president says, "Oh hey… there's a bit of a problem brewing with illicit activities over in Junon. Go fix it."

And that's how I ended up here, on this cliff outside of Junon at six in the morning, shivering my ass off because some people just don't know that a polite "No, thank you," means just that.

Okay… maybe I didn't exactly put it that way. I MAY have hung up on him the first time he called… but it's really not important now, is it? I mean, what's done is done and all that jazz; you can't change the past after all!

…

Right. Continuing on.

Reeve, ever the gentleman, decided that one wake-up call surely couldn't have been enough, and that a girl like me didn't need her beauty sleep, oh no siree bob**;** so he called again.

And again.

And… again.

Until eventually, my oh-so-strong resistance shattered, since you can really only go back to sleep after being woken up so many times, and Reeve had definitely crossed the threshold there.

Scratch that. He hadn't crossed the threshold. He'd taken a running leap over the threshold. When he finally landed, he decided to do a series of flips and cartwheels and by the time he stopped, the threshold couldn't even be seen anymore, he was so far beyond the threshold.

After all, normal people tend to stop with two wake-up calls. Reeve thinks that twenty is a far better number, apparently.

Um… right. ANYWAY!

So I dragged my sorry ass out of bed, and began getting my stuff all packed up, all the while cursing Reeve to a million years of nothing but being poked in the shoulder repeatedly while a tiny raincloud follows him around and rains on his head for interrupting my much-needed rest.

It's only after I finished packing and getting dressed that I realized that all plans for my grand arrival and the subsequent kicking of ass would have to be postponed as the Single White Rose of Wutai had no means of getting to Junon.

A truly vexing situation, as I'm sure you have noticed, seeing as how Wutai is an island nation, and Junon is most certainly not located on said island nation.

So with no ride, whatever would I do? Don't worry – I'm capable… and cunning. I managed to get myself transportation by utilizing the best form of persuasion in existence: my charming, sparkling personality, of course!

**&**

"No way in hell, kid."

"Oh come on, Cid, it's only for a day or so! I promise! It's just a low-level gang bumming around Junon. If it was anything huge, Reeve would have demanded I take a taskforce or, hell, even Vincent," I reasoned in what I hoped was my most convincing tone.

"I ain't your personal airship pilot, brat. I'm not getting my ass out of bed this early to go drop you in Junon just 'cuz ya feel like it."

I should have expected that one, really, but I was surprised anyway. Blame it on the early hour. "Cid, I just told you that I don't feel like it. If I felt like it, first of all, I wouldn't be calling you at three in the morning, and secondly, I would be asking you to take me somewhere… oh, I don't know… warm? Like Costa del Sol? Besides, Cid, I really need to get there soon, and your help would be so appreciated," I was pleading by this point. Not really my shining-est moment, but hey. Yuffie has to do what Yuffie has to do, after all.

Cid grumbled a bit. I really hoped that was some sort of positive sign. There was some more grumbling and suddenly, it was as if the clouds of problem-ness had opened up and let the sun come through! My persuasion was assisted by the best savior I could have hoped for!

"Cid, you should take her," I heard Shera's voice faintly in the background. She sounded really tired, and I felt bad at first, but she was helping me and that was good. It was very good.

"Girl can take care of herself, Shera," Cid replied grumpily. He was pouting now. This was looking incredibly good – in fact, this situation was looking so good, it could have had chocolate frosting on top and it wouldn't have been better than the way it was playing out in that moment.

"Cid, what if she gets hurt and there's nobody there to help her? She would be in serious trouble! It would be so horrible, being injured and all alone in Junon, and even if this gang is as weak as Yuffie claims, they could still seriously hurt her while she's down!"

A looong pause. I bet I could've baked a cake during that pause, it was so long. If only I could bake a cake. Tifa tried to teach me once… but that's a story for another time.

"Fine. I'll take ya to Junon, brat. Only to make sure ya don't get killed, though," came Cid's concession finally.

Damn. Shera's powers of amazing are to be envied, by the way. I swear, that woman could talk her way out of a death sentence and leave the executioner feeling like she saved _his_ life.

And that's pretty much how the cookie crumbled. Well, aside from my usual adventures with airsickness ("Not on the upholstery, fuckdammit! The bathroom's over there!"), but I figure I should spare you those details.

**&**

So here we are. Six A.M., outside of Junon. Aren't you just brimming with excitement at the possibilities of this grand adventure upon which my buddy and I are about to embark?

I know I can barely stand it, I'm so amped up. Truly.

I glance at Cid. He looks bored, so I figure that's as good a cue as any to divulge what our plan should be.

"First thing, Cid, is I think we should interview the locals. Yanno, see what's going on and whatnot? We can get some pretty good info from the citizens of lower town, by my reckoning." I'm ticking down my mental list, feeling all sorts of official and responsible and in-chargeness. It's great.

"And then?"

I stop. I haven't really thought of an "and then" yet… I look at Cid a bit uneasily. "We… find things out from the civilians and… go from there?" I'm the QUEEN of coming up with completely convincing BS. Really.

But Cid just raises his eyebrow in some sort of look that screams**, **"Yuffie Kisaragi, I know you don't know what the hell the 'and then' is, but this is your mission and I won't take over because I'm only here to make sure you don't die in some alley."

And you know what? I'm glad.

After all, solo ass-kicking is only so much fun. If there's no one there to watch you, then what's the point?

* * *

Author's Note:

I'd like to give a special thanks to the following people:

My dishwasher, for being slow and giving me the time to upload;

The Genesis Awards crew: QuietNCryptic, Clan Dragoodle, YesAnimeCharactersCanBeSexy, Shagi Tigori, lynnreist, Jeanneandheralters, TCosta, ZidaneT, Woodster, and Zack for bullying me in Skype;

And finally, mintbanana, Woodster, and QuietNCryptic for being patient with my crazy and being the fabulous team of betas they are.


	2. Subtlety

One would think that questioning the locals would be an easy task. In one aspect, it is – once you find the locals that actually know something, your job is pretty darn easy. However, that whole "finding the locals who actually know something" deal?

Yeah. Basically impossible. Especially since Reeve (have I mentioned how gentlemanly he is? Because seriously, he deserves an award! So considerate!) didn't really give me any information other than saying something along the lines of**,** "Thur's trouble brewing up yonder in Junon! Go get an inklin' of what it is!"

Except… you know… not like that.

So anyway, here I am in Lower Junon, with Cid, at six o'clock in the morning, freezing my ass off, and wondering where to begin in my quest for information.

First of all, there's like no one out in town at six A.M. I can't help but wonder why the hell Reeve felt it was a good idea to get me up THAT FRICKING EARLY to come to Junon**,** when nobody's going to be up until at least eight.

Oh well. It's not like I can really change the circumstances now, so I decide to get a good look around at who, exactly, we might be able to talk to.

To the right, a bunch of men wearing construction hats heading to the elevator leading to Upper Junon.

Behind them, men without hats. Probably businessmen, if the suits are anything to go by.

To the left…

BINGO.

Seriously. I'm so happy I could dance!

Directly to my left is a circle of middle-aged women gossiping. The best part? They seem to be complaining about "kids these days."

So happy I could DANCE, I tell you!

To begin with, though, this is a delicate situation. Don't get me wrong, the threat (as far as we know) is minimal, but we don't want to incite panic. The last thing we need right now is mass hysteria throughout Junon simply because we pulled the "We're from WRO" card.

Trust me. It's a rookie mistake and it's a BAD one, at that. And I may or may not be speaking from experience; you'll never know.

… Fine. I'm speaking from experience. But it only happened once! I promise!

What Cid and I need to do here is be discreet. This is probably easier said than done, what with having an extra person around and my penchant for screwing things up.

If I focus, though, there should be no worries. I am Yuffie Kisaragi, QUEEN OF STEALTH, after all!

I'm serious. Remember Deepground? Just try to tell me that stunt at the Shinra Manor wasn't grade-A badassery. Really. I dare you.

What with me being QUEEN OF STEALTH and all, I whip out the "Tourist's Guide to Junon" map I yoinked at the front gate.

Stop looking at me like that. They were complimentary, you jerk.

ANYWAY! I whip out my map, because I'm stealthy and whatnot, and beckon for Cid to follow. We casually make our way over toward the older women, all the while looking at the map like it's the coolest thing in the world, and as such, it must be memorized.

We stand next to the women, me playing "confused tourist" while Cid... is Cid.

"Don't see why we don't just ASK them," he grumbles, kind of loud. I shoot him a glare; he smirks and keeps grumbling, drowning out the group's chatter, so all I can hear is the occasional**, **"Well I never!" or "Bless his heart."

The women notice us, which sucks because I've gotten zero usable information and I've figured out that Cid's a horrible person to bring on recon with me.

"Can I help you?" It comes from right behind me. I jump, surprised, and turn to find one of the ladies, trying to look as approachable as possible. She's nervous, though. Probably because I'm so fabulously intimidating and all – "Yuffie Kisaragi, Professional Kicker of Ass" could be tattooed on my forehead and my badass level couldn't rise higher than it is now.

Or it could be the fact that Cid's carrying the Venus Gospel and I have my trusty Conformer easily accessible.

But I prefer the first idea.

ANYWAY! Now I have to play the little lost tourist, so I try my hardest to look as bewildered by Junon's simple setup as possible.

"Um… yeah. So my friend and I are new in town, and we're kind of lost. Could you help us please? He's really no help at all, just staring at the map and grumbling like it's going to magically come to life and tell him something," I say, hoping to sound as close to a damsel in distress as possible.

"Well, dear, what do you need, I can help…" I'm kind of listening half-heartedly when something too perfect to be true catches my eye.

A somewhat-large party of men carrying shipping crates are making their way towards the elevator to Upper Junon. The fact that they look all secretive-like (quick glances from side to side, whispering, keeping their heads down, the works) really helps them stay inconspicuous, let me tell ya.

So I'm off.

"What the fuck – GET BACK HERE!" Cid's running after me, and he's causing a bit of a scene, so I slow down. Can't let Team Subtle catch on, after all, though I don't think they'd notice. They're too busy doing a really good job of not being noticed themselves.

Aww, Cid! He's concerned for my safety!

Granted, he's probably only concerned for my safety due to the fact that Shera will most likely not be pleased were I to be maimed while he and I were on this grand expedition of a day trip of ours, but still!

… Sorry. I'm rambling.

He catches up to me quickly, somewhat out of breath. Curse my short legs! I totally thought I could run faster than that!!

"Dammit, Brat," he growls, "ya made me drop my cigarette!"

Oh, the horror.

"Well, Cid, it's not like you have an entire pack strapped to your head or anything," I reply.

His hand briefly brushes the strap of his goggles before he pulls out another cancer stick and lights it.

"Not the point. Anyway, what do you think you're doing, running away all of a sudden like that? Damn near gave me a heart attack."

Because it's not like the cancer will get him first, oh no.

"Well, what can I say, Cid? I thought I saw Palmer back there and I just HAD to go say hi. He's such a fox, after all." I tried to make this sound as convincing as possible. I don't think it worked. Oh well. I remain on my path toward the elevator to the upper part of town, hoping not to lose sight of our super-successful bad guys up ahead.

"Sure ya wanna go public with that, kid?" He's smirking at me, that smirk that screams**, **"Oh Yuffie, you're a HOOT," all sarcastic and asshole-ish.

I glare at him before pointing toward our targets.

"Shut up, Cid. We need to follow Team Dark and Mysterious now. They seem to be doing things of the dark and mysterious variety."

He gives me that look again. Gawd, I _hate _that look. But he doesn't say anything this time and lets me lead the way.

Team Dark and Mysterious have nothing on us!

* * *

And so ends chapter two. The action's going to pick up starting with the next chapter, so please look forward to it! Updates will be as close to weekly as I can get them -- most likely on Saturdays or Sundays.

Thanks to the Genesis Awards crew and my fabulous betas: mintbanana, quietandcryptic, and Woodster.


	3. Pursuit

When I was little, back before the war, my mom used to tell me all the time not to follow strangers. (I guess I had a bit of an issue with that…)

I wonder what she'd do if she could see me now, running around Junon at some ungodly hour of the morning (I may or may not have lost track…), accompanied by a chain-smoking, foul-mouthed, engine-grease covered astronaut, while chasing after a bunch of strange men wearing black and carrying shipping boxes.

… I think she'd be proud.

Even though I'm super excited to go KICK THESE GUYS' COLLECTIVE ASSES, Cid and I have to maintain a good distance of space from them in order to avoid them being all suspicious and whatnot.

Even though the chances of Team Dark and Mysterious becoming suspicious of little ole' us is pretty slim, based on how hard they seem to be concentrating on doing a really bad job of not looking obvious.

They're heading toward the Junon docks, I think, and before I can even turn to glance at Cid, who last time I checked was next to me, he's out ahead of me like a rocket.

I could be awesome and say that pun was intended, but it wasn't. I know, I know, no points for Yuffie.

It's so not fair that Cid's gotta be that much taller than me; my legs, though I am of the school of thought that they are _fabulous_, are unfortunately only so long, and as a result, I have a lot of catching up to do. Which is totally not fair, because he smokes and should therefore not be ALLOWED to be that fast.

So my comfortable, leisurely pace is replaced by a breakneck sprint.

You know, now that I think about it, my mom used to tell me not to run like a maniac through busy streets as well.

She must be wiping tears of joy from her eyes.

**&**

I finally catch up with Cid as soon as we reach the stretch of road in front of the dock that really used to be the only road in Upper Junon. The WRO tore the old Shinra base down after the whole Meteor thing and turned it into a really nice combined residential and commercial sort of place.

Tifa and I should really take a day trip here some time…

He looks like he's been waiting for a while, but at least he's nice enough to wait.

"Hey Cancer-man! I thought you were here to make sure I didn't kill myself! Fine job of looking out for me _you _did back there!" I stick my tongue out at him. I think it emphasizes my point effectively.

"Shut yer yap, Kid. I thought you were supposed to be followin' these guys anyway, not taking an afternoon walk," he shoots back, smirking again. "Come on – they hauled ass to the docks, and I'll bet they aren't going to take their time loading those boxes."

We begin our approach to the docks as casually as we can, pretending to mill about with the occasional civilian (most likely visiting the dock to see what's going on). We've done our best to look the part of interested, typical city dwellers – we've hidden our weapons as best we can behind a large crate by the wall, and I'm praying to Leviathan that one, we won't need them, and two, they're not found by anyone.

So far, so good, and hopefully everything will remain as such.

When we arrive at the loading dock, everything is much busier than I'd been expecting it to be. There are lots of ships being loaded with cargo today, and it'll take us a while to figure out which one belongs to our beloved baddies.

"We should probably wander around a bit," I say to Cid, "You know, chat with people, crews from various ships… mingle."

Because I'm sure Cid can mingle with proficiency. Oh Yuffie, what _have _you set yourself up for?

My unease increases tenfold when I notice that he hasn't been listening very well and has, in fact, been mumbling the entire time we've been in front of the cargo ships.

"Damn stupid is what it is… 'Let's send it by OCEAN!'… Fuckin' retarded is what it is."

Grumble, grumble, grumble. How the heck does Shera put up with him?

"… Cid? Cid, did you hear a SINGLE thing I just told you?" I'm trying not to sound overly annoyed, because it's Cid and he really can't help it, but DAMN. How on the Planet did he survive to adulthood?

"Yeah… mingling. Fuckin' idiots… thinkin' ships are efficient in this day 'n age…"

In all honesty, it's probably the best response I could've hoped for. Giving a bit of a mental shrug, I decide to make my way over to one of the docked boats and try to extract some information from a crew member.

**&**

"Well hello there, hot stuff," comes a voice from behind me right as I arrive at the first ship.

Okay, first of all, "hot stuff?" What the hell kind of place is this, a dumpy dive bar on the outskirts of town? No. Also, I really have to say that the totally obvious pick-up line tone really added a tremendous effect and turned me into a puddle of goo right here on the walkway.

Really. Look for yourself. There's nothing there except a puddle marked by a sign saying "Here lies Yuffie Kisaragi, reduced to a wiggling puddle of hormones and organ-goo as the result of being exposed to manliness of unmatched proportions."

Rolling my eyes, I turn to face my harasser.

OH. GROSSNESS.

Dirty, smells like fish, and missing teeth. Exactly what I'd call a fabulous find. Hell, I might as well marry him right here.

Anyway, he might have some good information, so I resign myself to playing along.

My current dignity level, in case you were wondering, has just fallen to an all-time low of 3 out of 100. As long as Cid doesn't see this, though, I should be fine.

Though, knowing my luck, he'll see us, scare off the creepster, and then proceed to laugh at me about this until I'm 87.

"Heey," I drawl, trying to make my voice a bit lower and less little-girlish.

It doesn't work too well, but Creepster doesn't seem to notice.

I named him. Didja notice?

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?" He's smiling now. Not a good smile either, since he's missing teeth and it's that smile that says "Let me take you over behind some of those crates and we'll… _talk_ for hours upon hours."

Gag.

"I'm actually looking for my brother. You see, he's working on one of these ships and forgot his lunch this morning," I reply, batting my eyelashes all the while.

Dignity index? A good, solid negative 70 points.

The crewman… his name's Jed, according to his nametag, so Jed pretends to look all thoughtful-like (even though you and I both know that the only thing he's thinking about does _not _include this supposed brother of mine).

"What's your brother look like, babe?"

Shoot me now. Seriously. Where's Vinnie when you need him? I'm sure one of his arsenal of weapons would suit me just fine. I mean, it's not like I'm Azul or anything, and Vince managed to off _him_ fairly satisfactorily, so I'm sure one of his guns would work just fine for ending this misery.

"Weeell," I draw out the "Well" because I remember some old TV show where this really slutty chick drew out her words while playing with her hair and popping her hip to the side. She accomplished nothing aside from looking totally vapid while having guys drooling all over her, so I figure that'd be a good model for emulation. "He's wearing black. And… I think he's carrying one of those shipping box things. He and a buncha his friends are all working the same ship. They're all wearing black, now that I think about it, so he's not the only one. Uniform or whatevs."

Dear Leviathan, please let me sound convincingly vapid. Dignity index as of now? Trust me, you don't want to know. Once we're done here, I'm taking the world's longest shower.

Jed "thinks" for a moment more before pointing toward the last ship on the dock.

"Try down there. Some new guys, I think… just started rentin' the spot 'bout a month ago."

"Thanks," I drawl again, adding in the eyelashes once more (with FEELING! … I kid.). "When's your break?" I ask, wanting to maintain my image of vapid, slutty, desperate girl. "Maybe I'll see you," I wink at him (VOMIT) and dash off down the dock.

I really hope that there's a shower stall open once we return to the Shera… otherwise Cid's going to have to deal with me scratching all of my skin off onto his upholstery, and I don't think he'd be too pleased with that.

**&**

I run into Cid right in front of the baddies' cargo vessel, conveniently enough. He's arguing with a crew member about the merits of shipping by air versus the "fuckin' stupidity" of shipping by sea. Vaguely entertaining, but the incredibly repetitive arguments of "Efficiency, for one; 's just a waste of energy and labor to send shit by sea since it takes so much goddamn time," or "WHAT'D YOU SAY ABOUT AIRSHIPS?"

I drag Cid away as soon as he's about to extol the amazing qualities of the Shera and how much battle she's seen and whatnot, since I'd really rather not draw any attention to ourselves on a recon mission.

I get us settled against a wall where we can watch our favorite suspects loading up the cargo. Well, I watch. Cid just grumbles.

"Dammit kid, I was about to end the argument then and there."

Sure Cid. I bet you were.

Have I ever mentioned how boring it is to watch people put boxes labeled with some mundane company logo onto a ship for hours at a time?

Because it is INCREDIBLY. BORING.

If I see the logo for "Clearwater Pharmacorp" one more time, I will scream.

Suddenly, I scream. The idiot dockworker that was standing in front of me has dropped his crate right centimeters from my foot and the cargo is scattered everywhere.

Hang on. The cargo looks vaguely familiar.

Oh. Snap. Looks like my shower's going to have to wait.

* * *

As I am a college student with a very busy extracurricular life, I'm going to be uploading whenever I can. This might mean a bit of a wait, but fear not, I have written ahead -- waits shouldn't be too terrible, barring any horrifying accidents. :)


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